


Journeys Home

by MSquared79



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8547775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSquared79/pseuds/MSquared79
Summary: This was inspired by my love of the episodes Aliyah/Truth or Consequences.  There was a lot more at play than was shown, as we saw from later episodes and I wanted to delve more into what was going on with the characters during and after the mission to rescue/avenge Ziva.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my love of the episodes Aliyah/Truth or Consequences. There was a lot more at play than was shown, as we saw from later episodes and I wanted to delve more into what was going on with the characters during and after the mission to rescue/avenge Ziva.

As they stepped out into the bright, hot sun, all Tony could think about was movie theaters.

 

His co-workers had long been annoyed that he seemed to find a movie reference in everything, and that seemed to extend to hovels in the desert. But as he and Tim aided Ziva out of the hellhole she had been in for the last couple of months, his first thought was emerging from a movie theater to the outside, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. Well, there were worse ways of thinking.

 

Just a few steps away from them was Leroy Jethro Gibbs, all decked out in his sniper camo, looking like some creature in a horror flick. Yes, another film reference, and he kept that to himself as well. Then, Gibbs stepped aside and a couple of corpsmen rushed to their aid.

 

“Take her first,” Tony ordered, releasing his grip on Ziva’s upper body. Unfortunately, when she was removed from his grasp, there was nothing left to support him, and he sunk to his knees, his legs unable to hold him up anymore.

 

“Tony, you alright?” a question was posed to him. He wasn’t sure until he saw McGee who it was asking, but his partner was at his side, watching over him.

 

Normally, this would have been a situation he would have waved off, machismo winning out over common sense. But the truth serum was still coursing through his veins, making him admit, “I’ve been better. Could use a little medical attention myself, Probie.”

 

A second set of medical personnel appeared and attended to him, peppering him with questions. His mouth was so dry, he couldn’t really answer them, so Timmy helpfully supplied the information they were looking for. By time they got him on a stretcher, the jeep that Ziva had been put on had sped away with Gibbs keeping watch over her.

 

Soon, they too were off, driven a mile or so from where they were to a plane that seemed to be waiting for them. “I’ll take the window seat, thank you,” he said, but he wasn’t sure if he had been heard. Then he felt a needle prick his skin and he almost fought it off until Tim placed his hands on the arm.

 

“They’re here to help, Tony. Let them do their work.” Why was McGee giving orders? He was the Senior Field Agent, that was his job!

 

“Listen to him, DiNozzo,” Gibbs’ gruff voice directed. It was a relief to hear that order coming from the boss. The world was being set back on its axis, even if it was agreeing with what McGee had just said.

 

“How is she, boss?” Tony needed to know. He still wasn’t sure if it was all a dream, that he had imagined her seated across from him. He had felt her body, but his mind wasn’t working well right now.

 

“She’ll be fine now, DiNozzo, thanks to you.” That sounded like a compliment from Gibbs, a rare thing to hear. Tony thought he had said more, but the roar of the engines starting drowned out any other sounds.

 

He must have fall asleep, or lost consciousness, because the next thing he felt was cool air blowing down on him. He opened his eyes to find himself on what looked like a ship. “Ah, you’re awake,” a voice said. It was familiar but he couldn’t place where he knew it from. Then the owner of the voice came into his view. “So, now you’re my patient,” Doctor Russell Nguyen informed him.

 

“Doctor Feelgood, how’d I get stuck with you?” Tony asked, his throat still scratchy.

 

“You’re onboard the Seahawk. We were ordered on standby for this mission,” Nguyen replied.

 

“‘Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world,’” Tony paraphrased, “I had to be dropped in yours.”

 

“Yes, there is an irony to it,” the doctor agreed before stepping aside.

 

“Tony, you hear me?” McGee practically yelled in his ear.

 

“Jeez, Probie, no need to see if I’m dead,” he yelped, jumping off the bed a little.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled an apology.

 

“What time is it?” Tony needed to know how long he’d been out, was desperate to know.

 

But McGee had no answer. “Truthfully, I couldn’t even guess. My body clock is so screwed up with all the time zones we’ve travel through the last couple of weeks.”

 

Tony knew what he meant, but even without an answer, he seemed calmer. “What did they give me?” he asked.

 

“They?”

 

“Doctor Feelgood, Doctor Nguyen, whatever his name is.”

 

Tim seemed to understand. “They had to flush out the toxins from your body that were in the serum Saleem injected into you. Plus, you were actually suffering from the worst dehydration of all of us. But other than that, you’re in pretty good shape.”

 

“And Ziva?” Tony needed to know and waited from the answer, which Tim seemed hesitant to provide. “Come on, Probie, I can handle it.”

 

“Same as you, severe dehydration. Various broken bones, mostly ribs. They did a, ah…” He hesitated and Tony feared the worst. “They did a rape kit on her.”

 

Tony didn’t need to know the result. “When can we get back to Washington?”

 

“Gibbs is on the call with Vance now, giving him a SitRep. And the doctor says he wants to keep you here a few more hours, just to be on the safe side.”

 

But Tony didn’t want to hear that. He somehow managed to sit up and grabbed for the IV in his arm. However, his movements were slow and Tim stopped him before he yanked it out. “Tony, you do that, you’ll be here longer. Better to be fully recovered than under the ministrations of a doctor who I think doesn’t like you much.”

 

Tony laid back down, defeat in his voice. “Fair point. But not a minute sooner than necessary. You tell him that McGee.” But the junior agent didn’t move. “Don’t you know what an order is?” That got him up and moving. He saw Tim go over to the doctor, but whatever he said was lost as he fell back asleep.

 

He began to relive the past couple of weeks, his mind going back to Vance’s office, which he had just stormed out of.

 

_Gibbs had followed and clued him into the interplay that had been going on between him and the director. He was surprised that Gibbs hadn’t headslapped him for his lack of recognition of what was going on. Gibbs eventually returned to the office and Tony went back down to the bullpen, finding McGee and Abby waiting for him._

_“What did Vance say?” McGee asked him immediately._

_“It’s still a no-go,” Tony answered, letting it hang there for a response, as he sat at his desk._

_It came from Abby. “WHAT!? What more do they need? We have the satellite intel, we have the manifests with Caf-Pow, what more do they need?”_

_Tony merely shrugged his shoulders. “Vance said the Joint Chiefs won’t sign off on a mission on a terrorist’s apparent caffeine addiction alone.” He saw Abby’s agog look, and played up his own frustration. “What can I say? I gave the Toothpick a piece of my mind already, but he was unmoved. Said we’d need to change the circumstances for them to authorize it.”_

_“How the hell can we do that?” Now Tim piped up, calmer than Abby had been._

_Tony made sure he was facing his computer, so as to not let the two see the smirk crossing his face. “We need our eyes on the prize,” he said at last, wiping his expression before turning back to them. “Quite literally.”_

_“How can we do that? They don’t seem to be accepting the thermal imaging data we got, l mean what more are they expecting?” Abby’s voice was only lower by a couple of decibels._

_But Tim seemed to get it. “We need to have a physical presence for certainty,” he said, catching onto what Tony was getting at. “Do they have an idea about who they’d send? Is Dunham still in the region?”_

_“I’m not sure about Chad, but I think Vance’ll be looking for volunteers,” Tony said. Then he smiled, one that typically got his coworkers nervous, as he saw the change in McGee’s face. “Luckily, I just offered him some, through Gibbs.”_

_“Wait, hold on a sec. You’re saying someone’s going to have to go into Somalia and see the camp?” Abby looked skeptical at the idea. “Who’d be crazy enough to do that?”_

_“Me,” Tony answered, “and McGee.”_

_“WHAT?!?” Tim squealed, before opening and closing his mouth a few times, trying to formulate more articulate thoughts._

_“I volunteered us,” Tony said, getting up and walking closer to McGee’s desk. “What, don’t want to do it, huh?” There was anger in his voice, even though he tried to stem it._

_Tim looked appropriately remorseful. “No, it’s just…” Tim’s eyes slid from side to side, trying to appease Tony. “Of course I want to go. It’s just...you should have asked me first.” He looked up to Abby, muttering, “I knew I should have gone up with Tony.”_

_Abby still hadn’t said a word since he dropped the bomb about going on the mission. Then, at last, she whispered, “Tony, that’s…” She couldn’t complete the thought._

_“Yeah, I know. But I haven’t wanted to get a bastard like this since Ari,” he said._

_“We’ll get him, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said as he entered the bullpen. “You, McGee, mission briefing, now. We’re going to lay it all out for Vance, SecNav and the commanders.”_

_What had followed was a precise plan of attack. They still had to find the camp, and it was agreed that there would be check-ins every hour. If there was no check-in for two hours, the signal would be sent. A SEAL team had been assigned to go with them, and Gibbs would be the signal once contact had been established. Tony knew the danger the whole thing entailed, that capture was inevitable, and maybe even death. But he was willing to die to avenge Ziva, he told the gathered officials._

_For the second time that night, he didn’t catch the looked that passed between Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Leon Vance._


	2. Chapter 2

“Agent Gibbs is on the line for you, sir,” the tech reported to Director Vance.

 

Leon watched as Gibbs put on a headset as the screen flicked to his agent in MTAC.  He had a stern look on his face, as if bracing for the worst.  Gibbs and his teams had been in a communications blackout for the duration of the mission, with nothing being let out, even to the very top.  So as of now, the Director of NCIS had no idea what had gone down with the mission, who had made it, if it had succeeded.

 

“Agent Gibbs, report.”  Vance’s emotions leaked into his voice and it was only slightly hesitant.

 

“Saleem Ulman has been neutralized,” Gibbs said.  “My team is a little worse for the wear, but made it out okay.”  Vance nodded, his body relaxing, but Gibbs must have decided then to knock him off balance.  “My whole team.”

 

Vance read the look in Gibbs’ eye from across thousands of miles.  The tone he spoke with had an air of disbelief to it.  “Your whole...as in…?”

 

“She’s alive, Director,” Gibbs confirmed.  “Saleem showed his hand, and he was holding better than we expected.  I think the next call you should make is to Tel Aviv.”    

 

Leon tamped down the joy, exhilaration, and shock as much as he could.  Both men had had a gut feeling she had survived somehow, but there was nothing else to go on but hope.  “I will see that it is done.  But Eli’s going to wait.”  He placed the toothpick in his mouth as he explained, “ I was checking in with her on something when you made contact.  Ms. Sciuto followed me here and may not let me out of the building alive until I tell her.”  He nodded his head in the direction of the door leading out.  “She’s been pacing the floor ever since.”  

 

Gibbs smiled at that.  Vance was aware that things hadn’t always been pleasant between Abby and Ziva, but he knew that the scientist, the most sensitive member of the team, was greatly affected by the reported death of Officer David.  “Get Abby off your back then,” he said.

 

“ETA to DC?”  Vance asked.  

 

“Depends on what the medical staff have to say.  McGee’s just got a few bruises, but DiNozzo has got severe dehydration, was shot up with truth serum and had the crap beaten out of him.  Ziva, well...” Gibbs informed him.

 

Vance could only imagine.  “When you know, contact me.  I’ll see that there’s transportation from Andrews.”

 

“Will do.  Gibbs out.”

 

Leon turned on his heels and was about to head to the door, when he stopped and went to the control panel.  He brought up the camera just outside of MTAC and sure enough, Abby was there, more of a ball of nervous energy than usual.  Luckily, Doctor Mallard was with her, but he didn’t seem to have any calming influence over her at that time.  He stood straighter and went to the exit.

 

The minute it opened, Abby stood in his way.  “Director, that was Gibbs, right?  Is he alright?  How are--”

 

Her last question was cut off by him turning towards his office.  “Doctor Mallard, Ms. Sciuto, with me.”

 

Once they passed through the outer office into his, he stood by the door and waited for the two to file in.  With them there, he closed the door and walked to his desk.  “Saleem Ulman has been dealt with,” he said, “and Gibbs reports that the team made it through.”

 

Ducky blew out a breath.  “Thank God,” he said, practically whispered.  He sank into a chair at the conference table.  “In what condition are they?”

 

“Tony’s suffering from dehydration and the effects of some physical abuse, Tim’s got some cuts and bruises, but Ziva’s been through the ringer,” he answered calmly, dropping the last name nonchalantly, eyeing the two in his office.

 

Abby Sciuto’s eyes grew wide as Dr. Mallard raised his head to look the director straight in the eye.  “Director Vance, are you saying…?” the medical examiner asked.

 

“But...but the Damocles…” Abby stuttered.

 

“I don’t have all the details, but Gibbs informed me that, yes, they found and rescued Ziva,” Vance told them.  

 

Abby’s hand shot up to her mouth, covering what he figured was a scream of joy.  No sound came out, but tears rolled down her cheek.  “She’s...she’s alive?”  Vance nodded, watching as the forensic scientist grasp what he had just said.  “But we were told…?” she continued to reason until her expression changed and solidified into something he couldn’t exactly pinpoint an appropriate description for.  “No, I’m not questioning it.  Ziva’s alive and she’s coming home.”  Then Abby looked up at him again.  “She is coming home, right Director?”

 

“They’re recuperating on the Seahawk, but Gibbs said he’d inform me when they are ready to depart.  I assume it will be all of them.”

 

At last, the shout of joy roared.  “She’s coming home, Ducky...she’s coming home!” Abby cried, throwing aside any formality that might have had a place in that office.  

 

For his part, Dr. Mallard initially remained calm, but when Abby threw herself on him, he, too, was brought to tears.  “I...I don’t know what to say!” the usually effusive doctor said.

 

Abby calmed down at last, enough for Leon to tell them he had some more calls to make, in private.  Both understood, but before he stepped outside, Ducky turned to him.  “When you are finished Director, I do think this calls for drinks.  Don’t you agree?”

 

Leon couldn’t help the smile from forming on his lips.  “You’re right, Doctor.  I’ll come looking for you then.”  Once he was gone, Vance turned back to his desk.  He buzzed his secretary.  “Put me through to Director David, please.  Tell him it’s urgent.”  It took a few minutes, but he was talking to Eli in no time.  “ _ Shalom, _ my friend,” he began as he usually did.  “I have some news you’ll want to hear.”

 

“Is this is regards to the camp in North Africa?” the Israeli spy chief asked.

 

It took a lot to get anything past that man.  “As a matter of fact, it is.  I was updated a short time ago that Saleem Ulman has been taken care,” Vance explained.  

 

“Yes, my sources told me this morning that foreign agents were seen poking around the area the camp was suspected of being,” Eli responded.  “I thought it might have been the CIA.”  The last sentence was said with a measure of disgust.  

 

“No, I can assure you, it was not them.  We had intel that needed to be confirmed and acted upon.  We sent in a small team and got that around 1700 local time yesterday and, at the agreed upon time twelve hours later, we initiated our plan.  I don’t have full details, but from what I have been told, there were minimal casualties on our side.  And we found a prisoner in the camp.”  

 

“Interesting, usually they do not leave anyone alive,” Eli thought aloud.

 

“Well, there was one and she was rescued and taken to the Seahawk by the team.”  Leon made sure his words were precise, hoping his friend would catch on.  

 

He did not disappoint.  “‘She’?  More interesting.  It is very unusual they would leave a woman alive.”

 

“Not if she’s the daughter of an intelligence chief, and has connections to the US as well?”

 

There was dead silence on the other end of the line.  Leon wasn’t even sure he could hear breathing in the office in Tel Aviv.  At last, the voice spoke up.  “Ziva?”

 

“Alive, my friend.  They’re still determining how well.”  More silence, and it was starting to concern Leon.  “Eli?”

 

At last, the man seemed to find his voice.  “Tell Agent Gibbs, he has my eternal gratitude for rescuing my daughter.”

 

“Actually, you should tell that to Agent DiNozzo,” Leon informed him.

 

“DiNozzo?”  The name was not said with any measure of disgust but with genuine surprise.  Then, after another pause, Eli added, “I am not surprised.”

 

That was an interesting comment for the director to make.  “May I ask why?”

 

“Because, I saw that he would go to the ends of the earth for Ziva,” Eli explained.  “I realized that when I spoke to him.”  After a moment, he changed his mind.  “When I interrogated him.  He would do whatever it took to protect her...or avenge her.  I admit, I misjudged that.  Please, when he returned to the states, inform me and I will contact him myself, tell him personally.”

 

“I will see that it’s done.   _ Shalom, _ my friend,” Leon said, ending his side of the conversation.

 

“ _ Shalom, _ and thank you.  This is more than I hoped for, Leon,” Eli said, as his emotions began to overtake him.

 

At his desk in DC, Vance paused before hanging up the phone.  He could only imagine the emotions that were running through Eli David at that moment.  Those thoughts brought him back to the night where this crazy plan was hatched.

 

_ “Did he figure it out?” Vance asked Gibbs when he re-entered the office.   _

 

_ “Yeah, eventually,” Gibbs replied, half a smile on his face.  Then he looked at Leon.  “Lay off him, he’s been going through a lot.” _

 

_ “We gonna tell him our suspicions?”  It had been a wild thought that his Supervisory Agent had come up with, but in the past year, he’d seen nothing to doubt Gibbs’ gut. _

 

_ At that, the other man shook his head.  “No, we do that, he’s liable to go off half-cocked before we have a plan in place.  Hell, he still might, even with one thing in mind.” _

 

_ Before Vance could respond, the phone on his desk buzzed.  “Yeah?  Okay, we’ll take it in MTAC.”  He hung up and rose from his desk. _

 

_ “Davenport?” _

 

_ Vance nodded.  “I’m going to brief him on the plan, but I expect a more detailed strategy soon.” _

 

_ Gibbs also stood.  “I’ll see that you get it, Director.” _

 

_ They both exited the office, Gibbs heading to the bullpen, and Vance to MTAC.  Once inside, he was met with the image of the Secretary of the Navy.  “Leon, I thought we’ve been over this already?” _

 

_ “Yes, sir, we have, but my team has offered an alternative,” the NCIS director stated.  “If we sent a couple of agents in-country for eyes on the ground, could you sell them as the way to get confirmation on the location of Saleem’s camp?” _

 

_ “You’re talking about dropping men into the middle of Somalia?”  Davenport sounded skeptical as he awaited Vance’s answer. _

 

_ “Yes, sir,  he is,” Gibbs called out as he, DiNozzo and McGee hot on his heels to join the discussion. _

 

_ Leon knew that the Secretary of the Navy had experience with Gibbs’ plans from the time they were hunting down the mole, who turned out to be Agent Lee.  Vance thought that was a crazy idea, and since he hadn’t been let in on what exactly Gibbs was thinking up, he knew it would be good. _

 

_ “Alright Agent Gibbs, let’s hear it out,” Davenport said, leaning back in his chair. _

 

_ “The plan is simple,” DiNozzo answered.  “Agent McGee and myself with get ourselves captured.”  He stated that with an air of nonchalance that bespoke an arrogance that lay underneath DiNozzo’s facade.  “That gets us to the camp and gives the SEALS a clear path there.” _

 

_ “I’ll be following them, keeping an eye on the situation, and acting as the signal flare for where to put down,” Gibbs added. _

 

_ “I’d hoping that we’ll get to see the man himself.  I’m sure that if I do, I can find a way to distract him long enough for the location to be found,” Tony added. _

 

_ “And how do you plan on ‘distracting’ him, Agent DiNozzo?” _

 

_ “My usual charm.”  DiNozzo smirked, a reaction that made Vance shake his head in annoyance.  “I’m sure there’s plenty of topics for us to discuss.  He went to Yale, right?  Maybe football’ll come up.  You know, Ohio State went ten and two in the regular season last year.  Lost in the Fiesta Bowl, though, which sucked.” _

 

_ Vance could tell the SecNav’s patience was running thin.  “What’s the probability of success, Agent Gibbs?” _

 

_ Leon held his breath awaiting that answer.  “In all honesty, sir, a crap shoot.  But, it’s the best plan we have.” _

 

_ “There are more details, we have to work out, but when we have it planned down to the last second, we’ll contact you,” Leon told him, trying to assuage his concerns.   _

 

_ “Make sure you do that.  In the meantime, I’ll try to sell this hair-brained scheme to the Joint Chiefs.  I’m sure they’ll have their own questions,” Davenport replied with a shake of his head.  “Be sure you’re ready  for them.”  With that, the line went dark. _

 

_ Vance turned back to his team.  “Will there ever be a time when you stow the smartass act?” he asked DiNozzo.  But before he could get an answer, he said, “Never mind.  I suspect it’ll be the thing that save your life one day.” _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Please be warned, there are allusions to rape in this chapter. I have couched it in the best manner I could think of, even consulting my best friend who is a lawyer on how to mention it.

She crept into the sickbay, as quietly as she could while leaning on a crutch.  She didn’t feel as though she needed it, but the doctor insisted that if she was going to be out of bed, she had to use it.  For once,, Ziva was too exhausted to argue for once and she acquiesced.

 

He was laying there, his eyes closed, but Ziva knew Tony well and knew he wasn’t totally asleep.  She did hear some light snoring and looked up, seeing McGee sitting upright on the other side of the bed, his head lolling to the side.  But Ziva wasn’t there for Tim.  She was here for Tony.

 

She still couldn’t believe that she was here, onboard an American vessel, alive.  She truly believed she was going to be killed.  When Saleem came to grab her, throwing the satchel over her head, she thought she was going to be taken out and shot.  It was a surprise when she was thrust into a chair and the bag was removed.  At first, she thought she was dreaming, but when Saleem left and Tony spoke, she knew she was not.

 

_ “Well, how was your summer?” _

 

It was asked in the tone he used most of the time, joking around, laced with sarcasm.  If it were a dream, that was how he would sound.  But he wouldn’t look like this.  In the years they had worked together, he had rarely looked like this.  He was usually pristine, immaculate, his hair perfectly coiffed, his skin clean and smooth.  It was very unusual for him to not look that way.

 

She figured that, if it was a dream, that would be how he looked.  And she had thought of him these last four months...had dreamed about him.  Mostly, they were memories of their years together, missions undertaken, roles played.  Maybe one or two fantasies, echoes of times they needed to appear to be more...intimate than they actually were.  But, always, he had a cocky smile and a twinkle in his eye.  

 

The smile that greeted her in that room was not so broad as it usually was and his eyes were unfocused.  But there was still an arrogance about him, one that told her he was supremely confident in his own success, even in the face of such hopelessness.  He was, always, the wildcard, he told Saleem, the one who laughed in the face of adversity.  And he had been right, in the end, as the bullet sickeningly hit its mark.  

 

If Tony and McGee were there with her, it told her who had the means and ability to fire that shot.  And it was confirmed when he said, “Let’s go home.”

 

Now, on their way there, she stood, looking down at the resting man, trying to think of what to do next.  She knew there were things that needed to be said, things that  _ she _ needed to say.  But she was afraid.  She was afraid she would be rebuked.  Ziva remembered their last words to each other in Israel, said in anger, pain.  

 

As she sat in the hovel they threw her in, she relived their confrontation, every painful word said...no, yelled.  And she regretted it.  She regretted confronting Tony at headquarters, because she knew he had been correct.  She regretted making Gibbs choose, because she had no right to make the demand.  She regretted trusting her father, because his had been a demand no father should make of a child.   

 

She hated herself.  How wrong she had been, about those three men who were so important to her!  Now, her greatest fear was that she had irreparably damaged her relationship with Tony and Gibbs.  She had been conscious the entire time after they emerged from the shack, as the medics worked on her, to the plane waiting to airlift them out of Africa.  In that whole time, Gibbs had not said one word to her, his expression more unreadable than normal.

 

Slowly, she backed up, shame overwhelming her.  She did not want to disturb Tony’s slumber.  He needed it, maybe even more than her.  As quietly as she could, she returned to her own hospital bed, hoping she had not disturbed anyone.

 

She returned to find a pair of blue eyes staring at her.  “Feeling better?”  Gibbs asked the question flat, emotionless, as if it were a nurse checking up on her.

 

“Yes,” she answered simply as she returned to her bed.  Gibbs got up and helped her back in, for which she thanked him.  But she knew there was so much more she needed to be grateful to him for.

 

“Once you and DiNozzo are medically cleared, we’re going to head back to Washington,” he informed her.

 

She heard his words, but they weren’t computing in her brain.  They were taking her back to Washington?  Why?  She was not part of NCIS anymore, she figured.  Why not return her to Israel, to her father?

 

“Is that where you want to go?”  

 

Ziva has gotten so lost in her own thoughts, she hadn’t realized she had asked the last question aloud.  She came back to the moment, looked at Gibbs.  “No.”  The answer was barely a whisper, but Gibbs heard.  Then, louder, “There is nothing left for me in Israel.”

 

A simple nod.  “DC it is, then.”  Then he left.

 

Ziva was alone again, with only her memories, how she had gotten here, now.  It was not long ago, she believed she had no future at all.  

 

And, if she were honest without herself, she still wondered that.

 

_ She had been so close to completing her mission, to proving her loyalty to her father.  But she had failed in the end.  That was all that would matter.   _

 

_ She was surprised death had not been immediate.   _

 

_ They had beaten her, tried to extract information, but she had not yielded.  It had become a daily ritual, the questions followed by her defiance followed by more beatings.  She could hear the flesh of their fists on her face, on her chest, but after a while she did not feel it.  Her face swelled to the point she could not see out of one eye. _

 

_ Her wrists and ankles were raw from the coarse rope they used to bind her to the chair, the table.  But again, after some time had passed, she had lost that feeling as well.   _

 

_ The next thing that came, well, they made her a...plaything.  She tried to fight them off at first, but again, as time passed, her struggles were less and less, until she stopped.  That, too, she did not feel, as  if she were out of her own body. _

 

_ In the rare times, when she was by herself, she remembered, she dreamed.  She dreamed of her body on top of another, more playful, more amourous.  Then, her partner had smelled of cologne, of expensive soaps.  Luxurious sheets encased their bodies as they rolled around on a soft bed   _

 

_ Even when they weren’t so intimately close, she could still smell those scents, even across a room.  She could still feel the textures of the fabric on her bare skin.   _

 

_ He would smile at her.  He seemed to always smile at her.  She saw him standing in the bright sunlight, a camera aimed at her, while she lounged on a deck chair, reading a book.  He was annoying her.  At least, that was what she wanted to convey to him.  In truth, it not the worst thing that could be happening to her. _

 

_ Now, she was living through the worst.  And still, she was amazed she was still alive. _

 

_ As to be expected, she lost track of time.  The first week, maybe two, she was able to tell the changing of the days.  The sun rising, the sun setting.  But by now, she could not tell one day from the next.  They bled into each other, no distinguishable differences. _

 

_ Until one day, she heard a commotion through the window in the room she was kept in.  The voices seemed to reactivate her brain, as she made out that two prisoners were being brought in.  She heard the laughter of the men as they informed the others they had been merely driving in the desert. _

 

_ Who in their right mind would drive into this region of the world?  A name flashed in her brain, for some reason, but she dismissed it immediately. _

 

_ That bridge was ash, floating downstream, no hope to rebuild. _

 

_ Her interrogator returned that night, asking her who she was working with.  He had not asked her that question in some time.  She answered him truthfully.  She could not think of who it could be.   _

 

_ The arrival of the prisoners did help her to be able to tell the days apart.  That was because the next day, her interrogator returned, jerking her off the ground and throwing a satchel over her head.  She stumbled a number of times on her way to wherever they were going.  She heard a door open.  Then, a voice spoke as she was shoved into a chair. _

 

_ “Questions are being asked in town about missing NCIS agents, concerned that US forces might mobilize.  One of you will tell me the identities and locations of all the operatives in the area and the other one will die.” _

 

_ Before the cloth was removed from her head, she could not be sure she had heard correctly.  It sounded like he said NCIS.  But that was not possible.  Then it was gone and she looked up. _

  
_ She saw him. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to be away from my laptop next week, so I may not get a chapter up until next Monday, but I will try.

It was the silence that seemed to surprise Tim the most.

 

Admittedly, they all weren’t extremely chatty.  Tony hadn’t been too far off when he was describing Gibbs to Saleem as a ‘functional mute’.  That man seemed to get incredibly far with just a look.  Ziva could hold her own in the quiet category, but she would eventually cave in the midst of uncomfortable silence.  

 

But Tony, Tony was the one who had Tim worried.

 

He and Ziva had been given the all clear from the Seahawk’s medical staff and, as Tim had promised, they were on the next plane back to DC.  It was going to be a long flight, but he figured they would be landing in DC around lunchtime the next day.  It would be the middle of the workday for NCIS, and he knew they’d be getting a hero’s welcome when they got back.

 

But right now, the silence on their plane was worse than anything he had encountered at the hands of Saleem Ulman and his terrorists.  Gibbs was doing a good job of looking like he was trying to catch some shut-eye and Ziva still had that thousand yard stare.  That wasn’t unexpected, as she had just suffered from months at the hands of who-knew what.  Even the strongest person would be expected to not be left unaffected.  

 

But Tim was watching Tony carefully.  Usually, he couldn’t keep quiet.  He’d fill up uncomfortable silences with absurd comments, mindless jokes and a string of movie trivia, quotes and references.  But now, Tony DiNozzo was the as much of a ghost as his other two partners.  

 

Quite frankly, it was making Tim McGee think of how to change the atmosphere of the plane.  “Boss?”  It seemed to do the job of waking Gibbs from his not-quite sleep, but the other man acknowledged him, with a stinkeye.  However, Tim would not let that deter him.  “Vance going to have someone meet us at Andrews?”

 

Gibbs laid his head back again as he answered, “Yates’ll be there when we land.”

 

“Cassie?  She’s back in DC?”  The last time he’d seen Agent Yates was back when Tony had nearly been killed by pneumonic plague.  “Wow, I can’t wait to see her.  You here that, Tony?  Cassie Yates is back.”

 

Tim hoped the news would provoke a response from DiNiozzo, who was sitting next to him.  And it did, just not much of one, as the Senior Field Agent merely shrugged his shoulders at first.  Then he added, “Last time she was around, I was a bit...under the weather.  Remember that, Probie?  It was the last time I stared death in the face.”  The last line came out bitterly, bereft of any trademark DiNozzo humor.

 

Okay, so not what he was hoping for.  He thought it over and decided on another tactic.  “What’s the plan when we get home?”  His head swiveled between Tony and Gibbs, waiting an answer.

 

Gibbs’ head straightened.  “We head in, debrief Vance.  There’s probably going to be a lot of questions asked and we’d better have the answers to them.”  Then he took a deep breath, sparing a glance at Ziva.  “I want full reports on my desk--”

 

“We’ll get them to you, Gibbs, ASAP.”  Tony spoke up, assuring their boss that they knew what he would need.

 

“Tomorrow morning will be fine, DiNozzo,” Gibbs amended, with surprising gentleness.  

 

“Will you need one from me?” 

 

All three mens’ heads shot to the side.  They had been the first words Tim had heard from her since Saleem had uttered his last.  It seemed to take them all by surprise.  At last, Gibbs answered her.  “No, wouldn’t need one from you,” was all he said.

 

After a few minutes, Tim took it as a sign to engage her in conversation.  “Ziva, are you...how are you…?”

 

“I am…”  She looked like she was searching for the proper word.  At last, she concluded her thought with merely adding, “alive.”  Then her eyes moved from Tony, to Tim and at last to Gibbs.  “Thank you.”

 

Tim just nodded his head, acknowledging her gratitude.  Then he looked down, gathering his thoughts.  “Is there anything you’re going to need?  I mean, your apartment…”  His mind flashed back a few months, to the explosion set by Mossad to cover up anything about the fight between Tony and Michael Rivkin, the fatal meeting of the two men that had set them on the path that had ended in Somalia.  

 

“I...cannot think that far ahead yet,” Ziva said, her voice barely a whisper.

 

“I understand.  But, if you need anything, my door is always open.  Any of ours, really.”  Tim’s gaze shifted from Gibbs to Tony and back.  Neither man added anything until Tony spoke up.

 

It was another hour that had passed by then, during which Tim tried to sleep himself.  But nothing was coming of the attempt.  His eyes were closed, but he was still aware of what was going on around him.  That was when he heard a voice.

 

“He’s right, you know.  If you need anything…”  It was Tony, trying, trying to speak to Ziva at last.  It was a relief to Tim to hear his colleague, especially after an extended period of silence.  

 

Tim opened his eyes, and turned to watch Tony.  He must have felt the pair of eyes on him, because he returned the stare, before looking back to Ziva.  “Hey, Ziva, did you hear me?” DiNozzo tried again.

 

Tim saw that she wasn’t asleep and that she had heard his question, but she wasn’t acknowledging it.  “Ziva?” Tim attempted to get through to her.

 

Finally, she turned to the two of them.  “Yes, I heard you.  I will be fine,” she answered finally, before disappearing into herself again.

 

Tim looked to Tony again, but his friend shook his head.  “It’ll take time, Tim.  It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours,” Tony reminded him.

 

Instinctively, Tom knew that.  But still, he was concerned for her, then he amended that thought.  He was worried for all of them.

 

_ “I’m worried about this,” Tim informed Tony as they walked out of the airport in Addis Ababa.   _

 

 _“Yes, McGee, you’ve said that about five hundred times since I told you back in DC,” Tony grumbled.  Tim tried to stifle the whining he’d been doing but he was very nervous.  He’d had little experience out in the field until only a few years ago and really no undercover or foreign experience at all during his time with NCIS.  He remembered a conversation he’d had when he was being investigated for killing the Metro cop.  Listing his_ _colleagues qualifications, he’d recalled Tony had been a cop, Gibbs a Marine sniper and Ziva an assassin.  There was nothing in his past like that to prepare him for the undertaking they were about to begin._

 

_ Well, there was a first time for everything.  He just hoped it didn’t get him killed. _

 

_ “When are we meeting up with Agent Dunham?” was Tim’s next question. _

 

_ “Right now, boys,” a voice chimed in.  The two DC agents looked up to find Agent Chad Dunham approaching them with a big smile on his face.  “Long way from home, eh?” _

 

_ “Yeah, but, what’s the expression, ‘join the Navy, see the world’?” Tony asked, shaking the man’s hand. _

 

_ “Pretty remote part of the world,” Dunham said as he shook Tim’s hand.  Then he flipped his thumb over his shoulder.  “Car’s this way.  I’ve orders to take you to the hotel and then tomorrow, you two set off on your own.” _

 

_ “Any help you can provide will be appreciated,” Tony said as he climbed into the passenger's side. _

 

_ “Don’t know how much of what I uncovered will help.  Information is scarce, but some of the tribes I talked to said there seems to be a gathering point in Jijiga.  It’s the largest city closest to the Somali border,” Dunham informed them. _

 

_ “Intel puts the camp in the northern part of Somalia,” Tony said.  “There’s been coveys seen on satellite imaging for a few months now.”  Then he looked to Dunham.  “A few months ago, I came in on the end of a report you were making to Gibbs.  You mentioned you’d heard a woman was with them  Did you learn anything further?” _

 

_ Even from just the profile Tim saw of Tony, he caught the look in the older man’s eye.  There was something of hope in it.  “Ah, what report are you talking about?” Tim asked. _

 

_ Dunham looked to Tony before answering.  “Some of my contacts who knew about a camp in the region reported that a woman was with them, but since then, I haven’t heard anything else.” _

 

_ “And you think it could be Ziva alive?” Tim asked Tony, though he really didn’t classify his words as a question. _

 

_ After a moment, Tony, never looking in Tim’s direction, replied.  “Ziva’s dead, Probie.” _

 

_ Dunham eventually dropped them at the hotel with the promise of returning and showing them the local cuisine after they rested and took a shower.  When they entered the room, Tim crashed on the nearest bed, but Tony sat at the table, opened his laptop and reviewed something on it.   Tim watched him, surprised at how diligent he had been the past couple of weeks as they had prepared for this mission. _

 

_ Tim eyed him wearily, not entirely believing what Tony had said to him in the car.  “Tony, we wouldn’t be doing all of this is we didn’t think she was actually alive.  There’s enough intel between us and the computer files we gave Mossad to lob a few missiles into the region and take out the camp.”  Tony didn’t respond to him, only continued working at this computer.  “Tony…” _

 

_ That finally shook him out of whatever he’d been in.  “My gut…”  He leaned back and looked towards the ceiling.  “Before we left, Gibbs pulled me aside and confirmed what I was talking about with Dunham on the way here.  The odds are long, the chances slim.  But I’ve never questioned the boss’ gut.  It’s never been wrong.” _

 

_ Tim got off the bed and walked over to the table’s other chair.  As he sat down, he placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder.  “Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say.”  Then he shifted his eyes to the screen.  “I’m guessing you have a plan, or at least one more thought out than what you laid out in DC.”  Getting captured on purpose wasn’t exactly appealing to Tim and he hoped Tony had come up with something else.  _

 

_ “Sorry, Timmy, but it’s probably the most believable scenario,” Tony said.  “Look, all you have to do is play possum.  I’m the one taking the brunt of the beating.” _

 

_ “It could get you killed.”  Tim let that statement hang in the air. _

 

_ Tony let out a sigh.  “If it can save her…”   _

 

_ It was then that Tim noticed something about Tony, something he’d never really seen.  Oh, he’d watched Tony banter with Ziva for a few years, tossing sexual innuendos her way just to be batted back at him.  He knew Tony probably would have wanted to bed her just for the hell of it.  Heck, he still wasn’t sure they hadn’t been doing anything when they were undercover as married assassins.  But now, even with him just saying the word ‘her’, he saw something in his friend he’d never noticed.   _

 

_ Tony loved Ziva. _

 

_ Before he could question him on that, though, the default Tony DiNozzo set in, manic grin, wise-ass glint.  “To quote an eighties movie ballad, ‘Who wants to live forever?’” _

 

_ Tim’s eyes shifted to the side, trying to run through the catalogue of Tony Movie References he’d accumulated over the years.  He knew he was entering possibly dangerous territory, but he thought is was best not to pursue his previous musing.  “Never heard of that one before.” _

 

_ “‘Highlander’, 1986, starring Christopher Lambert.  High on the cheese scale, but it’s become a cult hit over the years.”  Then Tony launched into a dissertation on the film, complete with cast and soundtrack lists.   _

 

_ Looking back, it had been a wise move, indulging Tony’s cinematic knowledge.  A relaxing respite before a dangerous mission.  Tim decided he’d call Tony on that look he saw, some day. _

 

_ He just hoped he’d live to be able to.   _


End file.
